


You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger

by loveforhockey



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anger, Chirping, Crying, Discipline, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Kneeling, M/M, Punishment, Rookie - Freeform, Spanking, Teasing, Temper Tantrums, mentoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveforhockey/pseuds/loveforhockey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never thought anyone would actually find the video, it’s been up for years and only gotten like 10 views. Of course he was wrong and now, as a star rookie for the Detroit Red Wings, someone just had to dig it out and share it to the world- and shared to the world obviously includes his teammates.</p><p>Set after Dylan Larkin's video of him shooting pucks when he was 13 goes viral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Written as a request. Dylan gets angry at his teammates and throws a tantrum. Niklas Kronwal is the one to discipline him for how he handled his anger.

That video was the exact definition of embarrassing. Making stupid YouTube videos was what kids did back then, and Dylan, despite being a prodigy at hockey, was no different. One of his bantam teammates and himself made a short video of them showing off their snipes in his basement, or rather “puttin on a snip show in da dungeon” and calling themselves D-Boss and EG-Slayer. The video didn’t show anything bad necessarily, just cringing embarrassment that made Dylan want to crawl under a rock and strangle himself with his own skate laces.

He never thought anyone would actually find the video, it’s been up for years and only gotten like 10 views. Of course he was wrong and now, as a star rookie for the Detroit Red Wings, someone just had to dig it out and share it to the world- and shared to the world obviously includes his teammates.

Dylan stood in the middle of the locker room, quickly turning as red a lobster from the chirps of his teammates.

“Hey D-Boss, where were those snipes in practice, eh?”

“Try some of those moves in a game! Tendies ain’t got nothin!”

“1, 2, 3, Let’s have fun! It’s about to get hot and spicy up in here, eh D-Boss?”

Despite his obvious annoyance and embarrassment, the chirps kept coming. He huffed out and went to sit down in his stall, only turning redder. Playing hockey, you’re used to chirps, but something about these got to Dylan in a way chirps didn’t usually get to him. Fiddling with a roll of tape, Dylan tried to hide his face until the chirps died down, which they eventually did- from all but Smitty.

“Ya using that to tape up your whips?” He said, gesturing to the roll of tape in Dylan’s hands. “Hey maybe we can call up EG-Slayer, get the line back together eh, D-Boss? What a snip show that would be!” Smitty reached out to ruffle Dylan’s curls, which he did not appreciate after fixing them once already from taking his helmet off after practice. The chirps gnawed down at him like a beaver on a piece of wood and frankly, he’s had enough.

“Shut the fuck up! I was fucking 13, ok?! Just shut up!” Dylan jumped up from where he was sitting, shoving Smitty so he landed on the bench in the stall next to him to punctuate his word. The roll of tape clenched in his grip was thrown into his stall landing with a hard thud. Looking up from his mini tantrum, Dylan found that the eyes of every person in the room were glued on him, their mindless conversations stopped to silence. Angry and embarrassed, Dylan ran from the locker room and down one of the many halls of Joe Louis Arena and into a spare room, currently being used for meetings but containing a small shelf with water bottles, tape, and skate wights. There was a table and a few chairs scattered around in and some weight equipment stacked in the back. 

Anger burning inside him like a fire that refused to be put out, Dylan grabbed a set of the bottles, which were surprisingly full, and smashed them against the rubber floor and wall. The orange cap split off on impact, leaving water to explode out of the green container. He did this until all six were smashed, water covering a good portion of the floor. Oddly satisfied, Dylan sat down in one of the chairs, face still bright red, dropping his head and threading his fingers through his hair and pulling hard.

This is exactly how Niklas Kronwall found him. 

“Dylan...” He said stern but soft, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. 

“Go away.” Dylan replied, not looking up, tightening his grip in his hair.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Nik’s voice was soft but his tone was firm as he walked over and untangled Dylan’s hands from his hair, putting them to rest in his lap. He stood in front of him, starring intensely at the rookie, gaze deepening. “What the hell was that in there?”

“Smitty’s fault.” Dylan grumbled. At this point Nik had noticed the wet floor and broken water bottles littering the room.

“Did you do this? You’re too old to be throwing tantrums. Smitty shouldn’t have said what he did but you have no right to push him or trash this room. Stand up, Dylan.” Nik crossed his arms and for the first time, Dylan looked up. Seeing Nik’s piercing gaze made something in Dylan click and before he could think about what he was doing, he jumped up and shoved Nik into the adjacent wall.

Tears sprang to Dylan’s eyes the moment he realized what he did. Nik didn’t fall or anything, just hit the wall with his back, but pushing the Red Wings’ best defender is probably considered a sin in Detroit.

Nik stared at the rookie for a moment before shifting him aside and sitting down in the chair. Tears were rolling down Dylan’s cheeks as Nik wordlessly grabbed his elbow and proceeded to pull him over his lap. A hand slipped around Dylan’s waist, pulling down his shorts and briefs in one swift motion, exposing his pale bottom. Dylan had been spanked before, by his parents, Riley, Zetterberg, but never by Nik.

“Kronner...” Dylan choked out but was cut off by the hard slap of Nik’s hand landing in the middle off his ass.

“You will never push me, or anyone else on this team, understand, kid?” Nik said, hitting Dylan’s sit spots and the tops of his thighs. When he didn’t respond, mostly because it was hard to form words when all your breath is going into crying, Nik landed the hardest slap yet to Dylan’s butt. “Understand?”

“Yes.” Despite his reply, the spanks weren’t slowing down. Dylan lay helpless over Nik’s lap, ass quickly turning a blazing pink.

“You need to respect yourself and your teammates, not throw a tantrum when you get upset. I’m sure Smitty would have stopped if you asked. Taking your anger out on water bottles in not the way to solve your problems.” Nik said, raining slaps down, alternating sides of Dylan’s ass.

“I’m s-sorry. I won’t do it again.” Dylan squeaked in between tears. Nik landed one more blistering spank before restoring Dylan’s shorts and briefs in place. Dylan let out a whimper at the fabric traveling over his sore ass but was soothed by Nik’s soft touch rubbing up and down his back. 

“Good. You need to learn to respect yourself and your teammates, no matter what they might say. If Smitty was bothering you then tell him. Are you ready to get up now?” Dylan sniffled and nodded, allowing Nik to push him into a kneeling position by his feet. Tears were still streaking down his face leaving tiny wet trails over his pick cheeks. He looked down at his hands in his lap, embarrassed.

“Hey.” Nik said, pulling Dylan’s gaze up with a gentle hand on his chin. “Are feeling ok?”

“Yeah, I- Just, uh, hurts.” Dylan choked out, blinking back the next round of tears that came with staring someone as respected as Niklas Kronwall in the eye.

“That’s how spankings work, kid. That kind of behavior is not going to go unpunished in this locker room. What was it about what Smitty said that set you off? It had to be something besides the video..”

“I don’t know... It’s just embarrassing. It’s something I didn’t think would ever be seen. I didn’t like being teased and being made fun of. I’m sorry.”

“I know, but its the team you need to apologize to. Let’s go get that over with ok?” Kronner said, allowing Dylan to stand up and wrapping him in a tight hug against his chest. “I care about you. I’m sorry I was so harsh on you but I don’t want to see you acting out like that and disrespecting you or your teammates. Understand that I’m not punishing you for being teased but because you pushed your teammates out of anger and trashed this room. Neither is the correct way to handle emotions. Let’s get you something to drink then we’ll go apologize, sound good?” Nik said, pressing a kiss to Dylan’s forehead and ruffling his sweaty brown curls.

Dylan followed Nik down the hallway and into one of the nutrition rooms. When Nik handed him a blue gatorade, he took slow tiny sips, trying to put off apologizing to a room of supportive teammates as long as possible.

“C’mon, kid. You can bring that with you.” Nik said, on to Dylan’s stalling. 

“What do I say?” Dylan asked.

“Say what you said to me; you’re sorry, it was wrong, and you won’t do it again.” Dylan let out a sigh but walked into the locker room, trying to hide how red his face was turning. Everyone was still here, including Smitty, and looked up at Dylan as he made his way across the room to stand in front of Smitty, Nik right over his shoulder.

“I’m, uh, sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I won’t do it again.” Dylan was never great with words but it got the job done.

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have been teasing you about everything.” Smitty said, smiling up at Dylan. Dylan gave a small smile back, happy that he was forgiven and had such great teammates. 

After Smitty bounded off to mess with Abdelkader, Nik put a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. The touch was grounding, reminding him that Nik still cared and his D-Boss video didn’t matter anymore. “Good job, kid. Now how about we go clean up those water bottles you destroyed?”

**Author's Note:**

> All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
